Hooked #3 (The Hooked Romance Series - Book 3) by Claire Adams

HOOKED
#3
    Book
3
    By
Claire Adams

 
    This
book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are
products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not
to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual
events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

 
    Copyright
© 2015 Claire Adams

 
 
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    CHAPTER
ONE
    Days passed, and I hardly saw the sun. The October
days were growing shorter, and I could feel the cold emanating from the lake
through the glass of my windows. I placed my fingers on the cold and leaned
into it, as if it was a fresh breath of air.
    Since the destruction of my beautiful building, my
mother had called several times wondering about me. About my
dance studio. About how I was making it. But I
hadn’t answered. My insides felt crumpled, hopeless. I
watched my phone buzz and buzz and buzz each time until it shook itself from
the table and onto the clattering wooden floor.
    Mel called as well. I remembered the joy I had felt
at her apartment, such a sense of family for the first time in my life. She had
grown up with Drew; she was his aunt, although because of their parents’ age
differences, they had grown up together. It was so insane to think about; that
this woman I had known for two years had always had Drew in the back of her
mind—as if he were waiting for me.
    Mel’s messages were anxious, worried. She didn’t
know what was going on, and she certainly didn’t know Drew had been the one to
swoop the dance studio out from underneath us. It had been our only solace from
the surrounding world, the only place we could actually dance—be ourselves—in
the wake of all that had come before. I had failed as a dancer, and she had
given up, gotten married, and had a baby. She had done so many, many decent
things in her life. Why wasn’t she allowed a single pleasure?
    “Molly? Molly? You need to call me back, okay. I
don’t know where you disappeared to. I had such a wonderful time with you last
week, but Drew’s telling me you won’t talk to him. I can’t understand it. Did
we do something wrong? Please let me know if there’s anything I can do, Mol. I
want you guys to work. You are the best girl that Drew’s ever brought home, and
I mean that seriously.”
    I rolled my eyes listening to the message. So even
Mel knew about Drew’s womanizing? I sighed, tossing the phone to the couch,
serious about not calling her back. Perhaps I could start over on my own,
without strings attached to Drew. I reached toward my coat hanging on the coat
rack. Boomer, to my left, meowed at me, confused about my strange off-kilter
attitude the past few days. I had forgotten to feed him the day before, leaving
him to jump on my head and rustle my hair in the morning.
    I pushed my hands through my jacket, thinking about
Mel and Drew once more. I was sure they hadn’t been talking this entire time;
or had they? I chewed on the side of my mouth, considering. Perhaps Mel had
known the entire time that Drew was in the city, that Drew was the one I’d been
seeing. Perhaps she’d known the entire time that Drew was planning to buy the
dance studio? My heart leaped in my chest; I felt like I was bungee jumping
once more. The city around me felt dark and dismal, churning with a sense of
foreboding. Was anyone here my friend?
    I couldn’t mope anymore, and I couldn’t consider
such thoughts. I shook my head back and forth, trying to cleanse